


Remember the former things long past

by chaos_is_welcome



Series: Coccham Chronicles [5]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Future, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_is_welcome/pseuds/chaos_is_welcome
Summary: Riding to Mercia brings back unwanted memories for Eadith.E for sexual situation in a Mercian meadow.Mentions of period-typical abuse, I guess?
Relationships: Eadith/Finan (The Last Kingdom)
Series: Coccham Chronicles [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807663
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	Remember the former things long past

**Author's Note:**

> I think you have to have read the others in the series for this to make sense? 
> 
> I really just wanted a smutty scene in a field and this happened instead. I want to keep carrying this story on until we have a fully developed Coccham Squad 2.0. Summer goals, I guess.
> 
> So yeah, enjoy.

Eadith in the sunshine is a beautiful thing. As Finan undresses her under the long rays of the Mercian summer sun, he appreciates the way her hair shines like fire in the late afternoon light, how her fair skin glows alabaster. He kisses along her neck as she removes his tunic and sinks down into the tall grass of the meadow, undoing his breeches as he goes. 

They’ve been riding for several days, and Finan has noticed the deeper they go into Mercia, the more withdrawn Eadith seems. This is her homeland, and while he knows there are some good memories, he knows many are not. His wife had been hurt by many, and he understood better than any that sometimes your homeland can bring memories you wish to leave behind. Finan had never desired to return to Ireland after his brother enslaved him--there was nothing for him there but bitterness and betrayal. So Finan had brought his wife here, away from the men and their children, away from their friends, for two reasons. First, because he missed the feel of her wrapped around him, for finding time for one another on the road is a difficult task, and second because he needed to get inside that beautiful head of hers and find out what is bothering her. 

He pulls her down on top of him, entering her smoothly as she straddles his thighs. He groans at the exquisite, tight heat of her as she tilts her head up to the sunlight, his name whispering from her lips in a soft moan as she puts one hand on his shoulder, the other on his thigh behind her. He drops his mouth to her perfect, pale breast, taking the dusky rose nipple into his mouth. Her breath catches, and the hand on his shoulder ghosts over his collarbone, up his neck and fists in his hair as she begins to ride him. She uses the hand on his thigh as leverage to rise up so that the tip of his cock almost leaves her, and then she sinks back down on him with a twist in her hips, and Finan groans as he switches breasts, spanning both of his hands across the pale flesh at her hip bones to steady her. She always feels so damn good. He’s had her every way imaginable for over a decade, and still can’t get enough of her. 

She rides him with abandon, and as she begins to flutter around him, she throws her head back, haloed by the sun, and Finan thinks she looks like an angel. He slides his hands up her flat stomach and flicks her nipples one last time, knowing it will push her firmly over the edge. She explodes around him, crying out his name, wrapping her arms around him as she drops her head to his shoulder. He surges into her a few more times, and then spills into her with her name on his lips.

He kisses her as he leans back, settling her next to him in the soft bed of grass they have made. She is pillowed in the crook of his shoulder, her hands gently threading through the hair between his belly button and his open breeches. "Someone may come," she says softly, yet makes no move to get up.

Finan raises an eyebrow. They are cocooned in tall grass in the middle of a sprawling meadow. Yellow and purple flowers bloom everywhere. "No one is comin' Eadith. Sihtric and Osferth have the good sense to distract 'em if they try, and even if they did come they'd only find us here if we wanted 'em to." She hides her face in his armpit as she blushes, and he chuckles that even at thirty and five years, she finds the thought of their friends knowing what they have done a source of embarrassment. "Unless of course, I make you come again," he teases, "then they will only have to follow their ears." 

She wrinkles her nose at him before sinking her teeth playfully into his pec, flicking his nipple. "You are incorrigible, Finan," she says with a laugh.

He smooths his hand up and down her back, nuzzling into her the fiery mess of hair at the crown of her head. "What's on your mind, wife?" He asks gently.

She sighs, her hand on his stomach stilling. "Noticed that, did you?" 

He smoothes the loose strands of her hair at her temple, gently tucking them behind her ear, then traces her earlobe and jaw with his thumb, waiting for her to gather her thoughts. It is their way . . .he gives her time to get to things on her own, just as she forces his hand when he's too foolish or stubborn to see things as they are. 

"I know this road," she says. "And between here and Aegelesburg are some towns with some very unhappy memories."

He exhales, moving his hand to the small of her back again, tracing small, soothing circles there. He waits, both wondering if she will provide more detail and fearing it. No matter how long they are together, he has found that his reaction to the ways she has been mistreated never lessens. 

She is silent, but her hand keeps moving softly across his stomach, his chest, the plane of his abs.

"Where?" He finally asks. If he knows that, at least, he can make sure to make new memories to drown out the old, sour ones.

"Kirtlington, for one," she says, "and Warwick."

He makes a non-committal sound, then rolls over, covering her body with his own. Finan sees no reason to wait on making those new memories.

**  
He holds her hand as they walk back to camp. The sun is sinking below Mercia's hills to the west, and it is putting on a brilliant display of oranges and purples. 

The children are at the edge of camp, playing at staffs. Although, truly they are hardly children anymore. Aethelstan is 18, all lean lines and muscle earned from working with the horses and training. He wears the leather armor King Edward (Finan refuses to call him the boy's father) has sent, adorned with a seal that Aethelstan and Osferth have determined is meant to represent a united England. Aethelstan spins his staff and advances on Young Sihtric, who at 19 is wiry and quick. He looks so much like his father. His sister, Yaraga, spins from nowhere and joins the fight, trying to hit Young Sihtric across the back. She is 15 and as fierce as many of the men. Sihtric blocks her, and then he fights both her and Aethelstan for a short while. Yaraga is noisy when she fights, yelling with each strike as she puts all of her fury behind it. Her eyes are blue like her mother's, and her hair the same shiny black as her brother and her father.

Sairlaith is fighting a slower, simpler battle with Young Uhtred, Sihtric's second son, who is named after their Lord. Although his daughter and Young Uhtred are nearly the same age, it is Sairlaith who is teaching him skills. Sairlaith has grown up chasing after Yaraga, Aethelstan and Sihtric, and she is mature beyond her years. She is tall, able now to look Eadith in the eye, and there are times that she bests the older boys with the staff. Finan is excessively worried by her presence here, only because he knows she will not be kept from fighting with Sihtric, Aethelstan, and Yaraga for long, when the time for battle comes. He would like to keep her a child forever, but knows Eadith is right ...she is a young woman now, and ready soon to make her own choices. Sairlaith spins, swinging her staff quickly from over her shoulder, and Finan grimaces as Young Uhtred fails to block her and her staff lands squarely on his shoulder with a thud. "You must anticipate, Uhtred, and block," she says matter-of-factly, helping the boy up. 

Finan squeezes Eadith's hand and goes to them. Uhtred Sihtricson has been slower to pick up fighting than his siblings. Sairlaith and the others try to help him along, but he often requires more instruction than their experience allows them to provide. Sairlaith grins at him and tosses him her staff. "Father!" She says. "Uhtred is still missing attacks from the left. You are just in time." 

Her eyes, though, so like Eadith's, are already on Sihtric, Aethelstan and Yaraga. Sihtric is still holding off their dual attack, but Finan can see that he's tiring. He puts an arm around Young Uhtred and narrates for him the fight between his siblings and Aethelstan. "See how Sihtric is alternatin' his defense? If he had a second weapon, he'd have more options, but he's managing well. He uses the momentum from Aethelstan's strike to carry his staff around to block Yaraga, ye see? And see how small he keeps himself? Leaves less to strike."

Except Sihtric stepped out, opening his stance and widening the target, and Aethelstan saw his chance, sweeping in for a strike that would kill, were it with a sword. Finan watches as Sairlaith jumps into the melee, running up behind Aethelstan and grabbing his staff in midswing. She pulls, and because he had not been expecting her, she gets his staff and swings it nearly under his feet. He dodges the first time, jumping into the air, but on the second she knocks his feet from under him and knocks him into his ass. Finan laughs. "And that's what happens if he aren't aware of what's goin' on around ye, at all times," he explains to Uhtred.   
With Aethelstan down, Sihtric turns all his attention on Yaraga, and disarms her with three quick moves. 

Sairlaith points her staff at Aethelstan's neck. "Got you again, brother," she laughs, then helps him to his feet. 

"Snuck up on me, is more like it, little sister," Aethelstan says, putting his arm around her affectionately. He is no longer supposed to refer to Finan and Eadith as mother and father, per Lord Uhtred, but Sairlaith will always be his sister. He loved her from the moment Finan had placed the wee babe in his arms.

"Saved you again," she says to Sihtric with a smile.

Sihtric bows his head and says simply, "As always, thank you," as he helps Yaraga up. 

Finan turns to the task at hand and swings the staff to the ready. "On your guard now, Uhtred."

**  
When they come to Kirtlington, Finan takes Eadith into the forest while the others ride through town. They wash in the river together and camp alone. He makes her come under the stars, her pale white legs over her shoulders. Eadith is very quiet, but he doesn't press her. She will talk when she's ready. She always does. They listen to the birds sing in the morning, and rejoin the others on the north side of the town. Everyone else had been too eager at the prospect of a real bed and a place to bathe.

Aethelstan rides at the head, Lord Uhtred on his right. Finan and Eadith ride next, with Sairlaith, Sihtric and Yaraga behind them. Young Uhtred rides with his mother, somewhere in the center of the column. Sihtric and Osferth bring up the rear, with Lord Uhtred's household troops and the strongest men from the fyrd in between. In all, the column was nearly 200 strong. When they reach Aegelesburg, Aethelstan and Lord Uhtred will work to stabilize Mercia, left reeling after Lady Aethelflaed's death.

When they camp that night, Finan comes to supper to find his wife seated between their children, and she is smiling as she talks with them. He knows a great deal of her withdrawal has been because of unpleasant memories, but he wonders how much is due to letting go of once was. For nearly thirteen years, Coccham had been her home, and Aethelstan her family. Then Finan had joined them, and eventually Sairlaith, but Finan knows Aethelstan won her heart first. Finan is fairly certain she had loved him even before they had left Mercia, as Finan himself had. The tall, confident man seated next to Eadith is a far cry from the sullen, silent, small boy they had first known. 

Aethelstan had called her Mother since Sairlaith was born, and now, when asked, who would Aethelstan explain her to be? The wife of his advisor's second in command? Finan sighs, and knows they all have adjustments to make with this new situation.

Finan leans against a tree and is content to watch them from afar. He'd been so focused on stealing Eadith away to make memories that could eclipse the painful ones that he'd forgotten she needed them, too. Sairlaith and Aethelstan might even be better choices to chase the ghosts of Eadith's past away. For every wrong done to her, she had raised their children safe and secure, with no doubt that they were loved. Aethelstan wraps an arm around her shoulder and holds her close, leaning his head against hers. Eadith catches sight of him and smiles, and he feels her eyes questioning his distance. Like a moth to the flame, he goes to her. Sitting across the table from the three of them, he listens as Aethelstan continues telling her of their short stay in the tiny village of Kirtlington.

The evening ends too soon, and as they walk back to their tent, he kisses her softly. "Twas nice to see ye laugh tonight, Eadith."

She cards her hands through his beard. "Everything has changed so quickly," she says, her head finding his shoulder. "it was nice to just be with them both."

He holds her to him. "Nothing changes who we are to each other, ye know that, right?" She nods against him, and is unsure if he's convincing her or himself, or if he's been successful. He holds her close through the night. 

**

They will reach Warwick, and Finan is unsure of what to do for Eadith. She has been very quiet as they ride, but at dinner every night they have sat as a family and she has seemed at peace there, smiling and laughing. Sihtric's family sat with them often, just as they had at Coccham, and it felt so right. As she curls up against him under the stars, she leans close. "I have a favor to ask" she says, her breath warm on his ear. 

"Anything," he says, and means it. He undoes the ribbon holding her hair, slowly working to undo the braid and then running his fingers through the soft red length.

She hums in appreciation, leaning into his touch. "I have to go somewhere when we reach Warwick, and if you can get away I would like you to come with me."

He moves to the base of her scalp and massages there, fingers working into her hair. "I'll speak to Uhtred in the mornin'," he says and she slips a leg over him with a soft moan. He chuckles. "Quiet now, ye wonton woman, before the priests think we are sinnin'." He of course could care less what anyone thinks, but he loves teasing her.

She nuzzles into his neck. "I love you," she says softly. "From this day till my last."

He kisses her, and she is soft and warm and the only home he's ever needed. "Till my last breath and beyond," he returns. He plays with her hair as they watch the stars move across the sky as her breathing evens out and she relaxes into him. Tonight they have skipped setting up a formal camp, opting to l ride until dark to ensure real beds tomorrow. He doesn't sleep much. Whatever has been burdening Eadith, he suspects he will learn of it tomorrow. He fingers the cross at his neck, and hopes he is man enough to deal with it. It's one thing knowing she's been hurt, and another hearing her speak of it. It made him want to kill someone, except there was no outlet for the burning rage. 

She was so strong. So many fools looked at her and saw a soft woman of noble blood, and even now men who met her wrote her off as a pretty thing and nothing more. She was still beautiful, his wife who had once been pursued by a king, and Finan took great joy in watching her surprise and often scare the shit out of men who underestimated her. 

Once a rider from Wiltanshcuire who had been resting overnight at Coccham had dared to touch her grabbing her ass and pulling her close in the hall. Before Finan could even get in his direction, Eadith had the man on his knees with a well placed knee, and she had whispered something to him that made all the color drain from his face. Just for fun, Finan had walked up to her, grabbed her as the turd had and took her mouth, and then he'd grinned at the man on his knees. "Whatever she doesn't chop off ye, I will, if ye touch her again, ye bastard." The man had paled further, and Finan had laughed when the fool decided not to stay after all.

He nuzzles her hair, breathing in her scent, and sleep finally finds him.

**  
He finds Uhtred in the morning and asks for leave to accomoy Eadith. Uhtred crosses his arms. "She seems out of sorts," Uhtred observed.

"She is," Fian confirmed. "A mix of returnin' to her homeland and all the things that have happened, but I think it'll be less of a mystery after today."

"And hopefully less of a burden," Uhtred said, his eyes sad. Finan could not imagine how difficult it must be for his Lord to be returning to Mercia, knowing that Lady Aethelflaed was gone. How many times has he ridden this very road to see her? 

"And ye, Lord? How is your burden?"

Uhtred shifts his gaze to Aethelstan, who is saddling his horse, Sihtric the younger beside him, as always. "At least I have something to believe in," Uhtred says. "It does not ease her loss, but I know she would be proud to have him serve Mercia."

Finan can say nothing, so he only clasps his shoulder.

**

She takes him to a cemetery, and holds his hand as she walks to the grave of her father. She is silent for a long time, and then she tells him how her father took her to Kirtlington to look for a husband, for she was the only thing he had left of value. The man who had been interested in her had a condition though, and that was to have a priest verify her purity. Even though he could not possibly, because she wasn't, her father demanded partial payment and put her through it anyway. The priest had shamed her, and the process had been both painful and humiliating and Finan felt that rage he had been worried about. He could do nothing with it, so he stood behind her and pulled her back against his chest, nuzzling into her hair.

She isn't done, though. In Warwick, her bastard father had actually whored her out at the alehouse. His jaw begins to ache from grinding his teeth, and she must have sensed it because she tilts her head back to look at him. "You must understand, Finan, we had nothing. There were three of us to feed and we literally had only the clothes on our back."

He drops a kiss on her forehead. "There are other ways to earn silver," he says, and does not say that if her father were not already dead, he would kill him himself.

There had been a disagreement with the alehouse owner, and her father, already in poor health from losing his lands, was injured. The wound festered and he died, and Finan thought the bastard got what he deserved. "And then it was just Eardwulf and I, and it was his idea to go to Aegelesburg and try to earn favor in Aethelred's service." Finan grimaces at that, realizing her tale of humiliation at the hands of her family still had at least one more chapter. In all the years they had been together, they had spoken very little of Aethelred. Again, Finan wasn't sure he could bear actually hearing without killing someone. 

He says nothing, and just holds her until she's made her peace. Finally she says, "Good-bye, Father. I will not come again. You have grandchildren, and they are of Coccham, and not of your house. Your line is gone, and I shall never return."

She's steel, he thinks again, and he puts his arm around her as they walk into town. There, she watches from the edges as Aethelstan and Uhtred speak to the people of Warwick. Finan goes to his Lord's side, for a weight seems lifted from Eadith. Sairlaith stands by her, threading their arms together.

Things forged in fire are sometimes shaped for a purpose, and while the fire is unpleasant, cruel even, the thing that is forged has its purpose. Aethelstan is speaking to the Mercians before him...poor men who work hard to feed their families, and he knows Aethelstan is able to talk to those men because he spent his childhood tailing Eadith as she visited the families of Coccham, as she found a way to ease suffering where she could. The fires of her past had forged a woman who could raise a lost boy and shape him into the man before him, a man who could be king. Eadith catches his eye and he grabs his cross. The past shapes them, but it does not own them.

When they depart Warwick a few hours later, their column has grown. Aethelstan has his first followers, and it is a beginning.


End file.
